


Nowhere Else I'd Rather Be

by ShesAKillerQueen98



Series: One Shot Fluffs [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Aziraphale Saves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Takes Care of Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Oblivious (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Mess (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley First Kiss (Good Omens), Blizzards & Snowstorms, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cold, Cold Crowley (Good Omens), Cold Weather, Cold-Blooded Crowley (Good Omens), Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Bad Day (Good Omens), Crowley Hates the Cold (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Communicating (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Crying Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Everyone Needs A Hug, First Kiss, Hastur Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Hurt, Hurt Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I wrote this instead of doing my homework, I'm Bad At Summaries, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Mugging, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), POV Crowley (Good Omens), Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Retired Aziraphale and Crowley (Good Omens), Scared Aziraphale (Good Omens), Scared Crowley (Good Omens), Sick Character, Sick Crowley (Good Omens), Sickfic, Snow, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27726824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShesAKillerQueen98/pseuds/ShesAKillerQueen98
Summary: A nasty run in with Hastur has Crowley unconscious in an alley during a nasty snowstorm. Aziraphale hears his call and brings him back to the bookshop to help warm him up and the two have a long needed conversation.(Gift for WhiteleyFoster)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: One Shot Fluffs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164884
Comments: 6
Kudos: 175





	Nowhere Else I'd Rather Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhiteleyFoster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteleyFoster/gifts).



> Warning: This fic is rather mild on the violence and self loathing/self hatred, but there are instances of both. Please remember to take care of your health. Also, this is based on a [drawing](https://www.instagram.com/p/CDRu5k7Fa2J/) by the incredibly talented [WhiteleyFoster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteleyFoster/pseuds/WhiteleyFoster). Please check out her [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/whiteleyfoster/) because she is an amazing artist.

Cold was an understatement. Freezing didn’t even cover it. It was absolutely biting. Whistling winds nipped at the noses of the few people who were brave (stupid) enough to be outside. Snow was swirling all around and sticking to every inch of clothing.

A demon by the name of Crowley was one of the poor sods who was out in the horrible cold, his joints were beginning to grow stiff as he quivered along, despite the extra layers of clothing Aziraphale insisted he wear. Not that he was going to refuse affection from the angel, it came in small morsels and Crowley had to make them last until whenever he’d get more. They were coming in more frequent doses now that they’d both cut ties with heaven and hell respectively but there was still that tentativeness, that fear and anxiety. Aziraphale had always taken his time with their relationship going from strangers, to enemies, to acquaintances, to very close friends. That shift had already taken so long but Crowley was willing to wait for as long as Aziraphale needed.

Crowley sighed as he burrowed his face deeper into the scarf around his neck. It was a deep red, almost crimson, hand knit in what Aziraphale had called seed stitch. Since he had so much free time, the angel had taken up knitting gifts for people. The scarf had been his latest creation.

“I saw this yarn in the shop and it just reminded me of you.”

The demon ran his fingers over the soft knots. Most of the yarn he’d encountered was about as comforting as sandpaper but the yarn Aziraphale used for the scarf was warm and soft…like him. It smelled like his bookshop too. Old paper and leather binding that was always around the angel. Not that Crowley noticed or anything

The snow was beginning to fall harder now. Crowley tightened the knot in his scarf and turned up his collar. His face was tinged a harsh reddish pink but it wasn’t from the wind. He’d started blushing as soon as the angel had wrapped the knitted creation around Crowley’s neck.

“You must take care of yourself, my dear boy.” He had said. “You’ll freeze out there if you’re not careful.”

Every par of the demon had screamed at him to say those three damn words. Just say it! Just bloody say it! But like always, he’d chickened out.

“N’yeah. Thanks, Angel. See ya tomorrow.”

He was a bloody coward.

Maybe it was for the best that he was such a wuss. He’d done too many stupid things to push the angel away in the past so he owed it to him to give him the time he needed.

But he was a demon. “Patient” and “accommodating” weren’t exactly traits of any self-respecting demon so he was getting a little antsy. He was willing to wait until Aziraphale decided where they would take things but it was getting harder to keep control of himself and it was honestly tempting not to confess every time he spoke to the angel. But Aziraphale was always patient with him so he would be patient for Aziraphale.

“Well if it ain’t the flash bastard himself.” A voice broke out against the wind, cold as the snow and rough as the bricks making up the different.

Crowley glanced over his shoulder, biting his lip.

Hastur and a few other demons he didn’t recognize were standing about a foot behind him.

“Hastur.” Crowley greeted, mock pleasantness in his voice. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”

Hastur let out a growl as he grabbed Crowley by the collar, dragged him into an alley and shoved him into a wall, the buildings squished together and huddled like penguins in the cold, shadows rained down on the four demons, hiding them from view.

A little smirk came over Crowley’s face, hiding the surprise sinking into his stomach.

“Well what’s all this now?” Crowley teased. “Haven’t you forgotten what Beelzebub said?” He gave a little wave of his hand, which looked a little pathetic since his wrist was being pinned against the wall. “I’m untouchable. Hell can’t do shit to me.”

“Maybe to kill you.” Hastur grinned. “But we can still send a message.” As the grin spread onto Hastur face, the grin on Crowley’s ran away

* * *

Aziraphale had just finished making his cocoa when he’d heard it. A familiar, quiet voice in the back of his mind.

“Aziraphale…Azira…phale…”

He tuned his senses to the two mile radius around the shop. The call didn’t feel like it was coming from too far away. His eyes drifted closed as he sorted through the different auras surrounding his shop until he found one in particular that matched the message. A familiar aura that was nearby. The scent of it was smoky and like trees in the middle of autumn but it was tarnished by heavy amounts of fear.

“Crowley!” The angel gasped, dropping the cocoa and grabbing his coat before racing out the door into the quickly worsening storm. The snow swirled all around him. If it weren’t for the lights from the streetlamps and quickly closing shops, he wouldn’t have even known where he was going. But aura persisted through the snow, pulling at the angel’s chest with a gentle tug. He was close by but the aura and the grip it had on the angel was beginning to weaken. If it had been a clear day or even a mildly cloudy one, maybe he’d have an easier time trying to track the aura. But he wasn’t going to find anything in this blasted storm.

Crowley couldn’t have gotten far. Though they had bid each other goodnight a little over an hour ago, the demon didn’t have a very quick walking speed, even less so in the cold.

Another gust of wind hissed against Aziraphale’s face and wildly pulled at his coat. Something danced just into the line of his vision, a bright red flash movement against the white snow in the darkening sky and soft yellow of the lights. Wait a moment. The shade of red…

Aziraphale bent down and picked up the strip of fabric…it was a knitted scarf made of soft crimson yarn…knitted in seed stitch.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale yelled, his voice barely audible over the howl of the wind. “Crowley! Darling where are you?!”

He held the scarf close to his chest, the desperation and fear in him beginning to take hold and course through him. It was beginning to make him dizzy.

“Crowley! Please answer me!”

He shouldn’t have let him go out into the cold alone. He knew Crowley wasn’t comfortable with the cold. Oh goodness, what if he’d discorporated?! No he’d been in danger for at most thirty or forty minutes, not long enough to freeze to death…for a human maybe, but for a snake…

“Crowley!”

Another moan breezed over on the wind. No…that wasn’t the wind. It was a voice.

Not even seven feet away, a black sock and the end of a black pant leg poked out from a discreet alleyway, resting on a drift of snow. Another groan sounded and the foot shifted.

“Angel…”

“Oh thank goodness.” Aziraphale breathed as he ducked into the alley. Crowley was sprawled out on the snow. One of his shoes had been stolen, his other foot was buried in the snow, and his overcoat was gone, leaving him in only his long sleeved gray shirt. His glasses were in a shattered mess on a drift next to him and he was covered in smatterings of snowflakes that were quickly becoming piles. The angel knelt down by him, noticing the large bruise on his forehead and the excess of demonic energy in the air. It wasn’t just Crowley. It was…much darker and stronger than him. There weren’t any people out anymore but there were trails of footprints that had yet to be covered by the snow, not just leading from the alley but past it as well. People had passed by and just left Crowley to freeze? Aziraphale tuned his senses a bit more and caught the demonic miracle masking Crowley from human eyes. Oh. They hadn’t passed him by. They didn’t even know he was there.

The poor dear’s body was wracked with horrible shivers, his skin was pale, and his breathing was quick and weak.

Aziraphale brushed a hand across the demon’s forehead. It was difficult to tell if Crowley actually had a fever or if his skin was just so cold that the warmth of Aziraphale’s fingers was burning.

“Oh my dearest.” Aziraphale murmured. As tenderly as he could, he pulled Crowley from his half buried position in the snow and wrapped the (miraculously dry) scarf around his neck, tying a loose knot. A groan came from the demon, his eyelids fluttered, allowing only a brief glimpse of those brilliant golden eyes against the darkness.

“Crowley, if you can hear me, I’m going to need you to hold onto me.” Aziraphale said as he scooped up the demon. The gangly limbs flopped over his shoulders as he set the demon on his back, hooking his arms under Crowley’s knees. “Come on, my dear, let’s get you somewhere warm.” A weak tug pulled on his waistcoat as Crowley closed a tired fist around the faded fabric, clinging to him. The demon’s head nuzzled against Aziraphale’s shoulder, tucking just under his ear and neck. “Would it be quicker to bring you back to the bookshop, or are we closer to your home?” Aziraphale pondered aloud. A murmur escaped the demon’s lips that gave the angel pause, only for a moment, but he couldn’t deny the warmth coming to his cheeks and the fresh wave of love that burst from him.

Or the absolute terror that followed.

* * *

Warm. Safe. Comforted. Loved.

The first thing that registered was the crackle of the fire. Crowley thought the last thing he’d heard was the howl of the wind as Hastur and the other demons walked away chuckling. After that, he just kinda drifted in and out. People walked by, not noticing his body sprawled in the snow. But he remembered something else. He’d called for Aziraphale in the few minutes he came to after about half an hour of lying there and…he’d heard his voice. Soft and gentle. Calling to him. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was conscious or Aziraphale was just a dream, a figment of his exhausted mind. But he didn’t care. Even if the angel wasn’t real, Crowley felt safe. He felt like he was home.

Home with his angel.

Wherever he was now was just as warm and cozy and he was content to stay like this forever.

Where the Heaven was he?

His senses came back to him, and slowly he opened his eyes. The bookshop? Yeah this was the bookshop. He was lying on the couch where he and Aziraphale often shared drinks together. So…it had been real? Aziraphale had found him?

“Oh thank goodness, you’re awake.” A soft voice sounded.

Crowley glanced over the back of the couch and saw Aziraphale standing in the doorway to his office with a mug in his hands. The angel rushed over to the sofa and began fussing over Crowley.

“I know you’re a fan of coffee but I didn’t have any so I just made tea. I’m sorry dearest. I-I can see if there’s something else if you’d like.”

“Nah, tea’s okay.” The demon sat up, the blanket on his chest shifting to reveal he was now wearing a black turtleneck with black sweatpants on his legs, still underneath the blanket.

He glanced at the fireplace where a large golden fire was crackling and his clothes were hung over the large brass ornate doors keeping the flames inside.

The demon glanced back at the angel, flushing slightly.

“Oh. Oh no! Not to worry my dear, I used a miracle. I didn’t see anything I wasn’t supposed to.”

If it were possible, Crowley’s face became an even darker shade of red.

“Uh huh. Yep. Got it.” The demon fumbled. There was nothing else he could say that wouldn’t make it even more painfully awkward than it already was.

A chill ran through the demon that started from his chest and made its way out, like his blood was made of ice water. Aziraphale stood and rushed from the room, returning not even ten minutes later with another blanket and a towel, both warm and fluffy, like they had just come out of a dryer. The second blanket was draped around Crowley’s shoulders.

“Thanks.” Crowley muttered as Aziraphale sat down on the edge of the couch and began toweling Crowley’s soaked red mop, though the shaking hands made it a bit more painful than he likely intended. “Take it easy, Angel!” Crowley protested.

“Oh goodness!” Aziraphale said, his eyes wide with worry and embarrassment. “I’m so terribly sorry, I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.”

“You didn’t. ‘M fine. Just, be careful.” Crowley said.

Aziraphale nodded and continued rubbing the towel over Crowley’s hair, though much slower this time. It was such a lovely and tender feeling that Crowley almost fell right back asleep with the angel’s gentle hands cradling his head.

When Aziraphale finished, Crowley had to refrain from making a face or grunting. He didn’t want Aziraphale to stop. The feeling of those soft, warm fingers gently caressing his head through the towel was just so soothing. But Crowley didn’t want to make the angel uncomfortable, so he kept his comments and groans to himself. Still, that didn’t stop him from leaning into the touch and smiling with contentment when Aziraphale laid a tender hand on his forehead.

“Your fever has gone down. It’s still there, but not as bad as it was before.”

Crowley responded with a tired grunt as he reached for the mug of tea, though it was a bit too far on the coffee table for him to reach. Aziraphale picked up the mug and pressed it into Crowley’s hands, his fingers stayed tucked around the mug, around Crowley’s fingers.

“Is there anything else you need?” Aziraphale asked, pulling away quickly. “I can add a few more logs to the fire. Yes I think I’ll do that.”

“Angel.” Crowley said.

“Just one moment, my dear.” Aziraphale said, opening the gate and throwing a few more logs onto the already roaring fire, a bit of a quiver to his hands.

“Are you alright?” Crowley asked.

“Of course I am, just tickety-boo.” The angel answered, not turning around. There was an out of character hunch to his shoulders that seemed to be stemmed form nerves.

“Aziraphale.” Crowley said, a bit of strength coming back to his voice. Aziraphale paused, his movements going still. He glanced over his shoulder, a saddened and anxious look in his crystal blue eyes. Crowley glanced from him to the empty spot on the couch, pulling his legs back so the angel could sit down. The shop was quiet with the exception of the crackle of the fire and the creak of the sofa as Azirpahale sat.

“What’s going on?” Crowley said.

Aziraphale kept his gaze on his hands folded in his lap. His eyes were far away from the shop, searching for the right words to fit what he was thinking. Finally, he let out a sigh, closing his eyes as a look of anguish came over his face.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” He breathed. “When I heard you call for me, your voice sounded so pained and then I couldn’t find you. I know how poorly you do in the cold. And, and then when I found you, you were so ill that you were delirious. I thought I was too late to save you and then…” the angel let out a shaking breath. “This is so silly. You’re the one who’s ill. I should be comforting you.”

“That can wait, Angel.” Crowley said, sitting up a little more. There was an unspoken request between the two of them. Crowley wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch the angel’s face, remind him that everything was alright, that they were both safe…he wanted to kiss him. And Aziraphale wanted to let him. As oblivious as the two could be sometimes, in that quick moment, they both understood perfectly. But there was still that fear. That horrible doubt that could only come from years of conditioning against one’s own desires. So they both remained still.

Crowley took another breath. “It can wait. You’re more important now.”

A few tears came to Aziraphale’s eyes. “Don’t say that, dearest. Please don’t say that. You’re so precious to me I don’t even want to entertain the thought of something happening to you.

By now he was beginning to shake.

Screw it.

Crowley forced himself to sit up a bit more and leaned over, taking hold of Aziraphale’s hands. The angel flinched, pulling away. No. Oh no. A bitter taste sunk into Crowley’s mouth. He’d overstepped. He’d offended Aziraphale.

“Angel, I’m so sor-”

“Your hands are so cold.” Aziraphale gasped, gathering Crowley’s hands in his, rubbing some warmth back into them, pausing a few times to blow a few warm breaths that prickled across the demon’s skin. “Of course they’re cold, you were froze stiff. You haven’t thawed out yet.” He chuckled awkwardly. Crowley cracked a lopsided smile. Damn he was cute, even when he was flustered.

“Thanks, that really helps.” Crowley said, with a small satisfied hum.

There was something else in Aziraphale’s eyes, underneath the desire to care for Crowley. There was a good dose of anxiety, and not just for Crowley’s well being. Something that went a lot deeper.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, Angel. And don’t try to dance around it this time. What’s wrong?”

Aziraphale grimaced, his hands slowing for a moment before speeding up again, keeping his eyes on his task and doing everything he could to avoid looking at Crowley’s face.

“Oh it’s nothing too serious. I don’t even know why I’m so bothered about it.”

“You’re deflecting.” Crowley scolded.

Aziraphale flushed, still looking at their hands his large, plump ones covering and shielding Crowley’s long thin ones. His movements were beginning to slow again, the concentration on his face fading to distress. Finally, his hands stilled, though there was a slight tremble to them.

“Angel?”

Aziraphale sighed. “When I found you and picked you up, I thought aloud to myself about where best to take you. Whether back to the bookshop or to your home.”

A little bell rang in the back of Crowley’s mind. It was foggy, but it was there. He remembered clinging to the angel, nuzzling into his neck. Warm. So very warm.

“And you said something that gave me pause. You said-“

“‘ _You_ are my home’.” Crowley quoted, the words clear as day on his tongue. It was something he’d been thinking for centuries now and the only time he’d been brave enough to actually say it to the angel’s face was when he wasn’t even fully conscious.

Aziraphale bit his lip, keeping his eyes downcast. His expression was unreadable but his entire body was trembling.

 _Well_ , Crowley thought, finally said it. _Finally put it out in the open._ So why did he suddenly feel sick.

He’d been wanting to say it for so long, he’d hoped it would feel liberating to finally say it, put everything on the table, but instead he felt like he was just going to faint again. The bitter taste in his mouth raced down his throat and settled in his stomach. It felt like someone had wrapped an enormous hand around his torso and was squeezing as hard as possible.

All it took was one look at the angel to tell him why. Every time he’d imagined confessing how he felt to Aziraphale, it was always something beautiful. Aziraphale was always smiling that bright gorgeous smile and he would always tell Crowley that he felt the same way. And they’d both be happy.

But Aziraphale looked devastated. And downright terrified. Damnit! Crowley had screwed up! He couldn’t keep a lid on it and now he’d ruined any chance of friendship or future with Aziraphale. He’d ruined it all, just like he’d ruined everything!

“Aziraphale, I-I’m sorry. I’m so _so_ sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you or offend you in any way. If it bothers you so much, I won’t bring it up again.”

Aziraphale remained silent, searching for the right words.

This was it. This was when Aziraphale would tell him to leave, that he wanted nothing more to do with him and that he never wanted to see him again.

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut as he heard Aziraphale take a breath, his soft voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire.

“I didn’t know you felt the same way.”

Prickles broke all up and down Crowley’s back. The same way? He…he didn’t mean…

Crowley opened his eyes and found Aziraphale looking him square in the face, his eyes glistening with tears.

“I love you, Crowley.” Aziraphale said, but his voice was thick with fear.“So…this is mutual?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to keep the tears from falling. With a shaky breath, he quickly nodded. “So why the tears, Angel?”

Aziraphale quivered and it had nothing to do with the chill in Crowley’s hands.

“I’m scared, Crowley.” The angel admitted. “I know angels are beings of love and I have no issue with giving love away, especially to you, my dear.”

“Ngk!” Crowley burst, not exactly used to anyone verbally admitting to having any kind of affection for him. He was a demon for someone’s sake. Unforgivable, unadmirable, unloveable. But Aziraphale didn’t seem too bothered by that fact.

“Nobody is supposed to give me love in return. At least…they never have before. And that’s not really surprising. I mean just look at me.”

Something in Crowley broke when he heard the sorrowful acceptance in the angel’s voice.

“I love you, Crowley. I love you dearly. Which is why I’m willing to let you go. You don’t deserve to be stuck with me. I don’t know the first thing about being loved and…being in love. I’m quite sure I’ll do something wrong and mess things up. You deserve to be with someone as perfect as you.”

“Angel-“

“I never intended to make such a mess of things. I’m so, so sorry. I never wanted this to go so wrong and-“

“Aziraphale!” Crowley interjected, grabbing the angel’s hands. Aziraphale went silent, looking at Crowley through floods of unshed tears. “I don’t want anyone else.” He lowered his voice until it was barely above a whisper. “I don’t want someone more like me. I don’t want someone you think deserves me more than you do. I want you. I _love_ you.” His hands quivered. “And I’m scared too. All this being in love business is something I never thought I’d ever have. I never thought I’d be able to love anyone or anything. But I do. I feel love and I feel it for _you_. And it’s bloody terrifying.” The demon lowered his head, pressing his forehead to the angel’s hands. “I’ve been told ever since I fell that I’m unable to love and underserving of love. I’m bloody terrified.”

Aziraphale moved one of his hands so they were gently stroking the back of Crowley’s head. “Dearest-”

“Don’t you say that it isn’t true!” Crowley barked, snapping his head back up. “Don’t you dare say that you don’t deserve love and that you deserve to be starved for affection for your entire existence. Don’t say you deserve to be denied that and have the gall to say I’m different.” He tightly squeezed the angel’s hand. “If someone like you, someone kind, gentle, compassionate, patient, brave, and forgiving as you doesn’t deserve love, then what kind of hope do I have?”

The demon clung to the angel’s hand like he would lose himself if he ever let it go.

Was he mistaken or was Aziraphale closer than he had been before? No, he was right. Aziraphale had come closer. And he’d come closer to the angel as well. They were almost a breath away from each other.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale murmured before laying his lips against the demon’s. The fit together perfectly, like they were made just for each other. There was no one without the other, like two halves of a locket. To the outside world, they were close but still separate. Nobody saw the sweetness and need and closeness that existed inside.

Aziraphale’s soft hands cradled the back of Crowley’s head and the demon melted into the touch, parting his lips as he slipped his tongue into Azirpahale’s mouth. The angel let out a contented sigh as he tightened his hold on Crowley.

He was dreaming. He was certain he was dreaming. This was just too beautiful, too tender, too warm and sweet to be anything but a fantasy that God was using to taunt him. If this was a dream, he wasn’t ever waking up. He wanted to stay in this dream, his lips locked with Aziraphale’s, his body lovingly held as if er were something precious. He couldn’t get enough of this feeling. It was gorgeous and intoxicating and he wanted to savor it as much as he could.

Aziraphale gently ended the kiss, parting their lips with a tender sigh. The kiss had ended but they stayed close, their foreheads pressed together with Aziraphale’s plump, warm hands tenderly cradling Crowley’s body. It seemed that neither of them realized but while they were kissing, Azirpahale had pulled Crowley into his lap, keeping him nestled against his chest, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other that was being his head moved to caress Crowley’s cheek. They were breathing in time with each other.

It was warm. So lovely and warm. Not just physically or bodily. His entire body, his entire being, felt warm. He’d been cold for so long. He’d been cold since falling from Heaven. Heck there were times when he’d felt cold in Heaven. Not just cold, but empty. But now, he was warm and full and…this was where he belonged. Safe and warm in Aziraphale’s arms.

“I’m scared too.” Crowley whispered, a slight tremble coming over his body. Aziraphale’s fingers traced a smooth pattern into the sharp angle of Crowley’s hip. “We’ll take this slow. Together. ‘Kay?”

Aziraphale nodded, nuzzling the tip of his nose into the soft thick fabric of Crowley’s black turtleneck. Crowley ran his fingers through the angel’s soft blonde curls before a massive shiver broke out over his body.

“Oh, my dear. You’re still quite cold. Let me get you some more tea, yours seems to have gone tepid.” Aziraphale fussed, depositing Crowley back onto the couch and standing back up.

“No, it’s okay, Angel. I don’t need tea.” Crowley said.

“Oh?” Aziraphale said, sitting back down. “Is there anything you do need?”

“D’you think you could grab my scarf for me?” Crowley asked. Azirpahale leaned towards the fireplace, taking the scarf from the brass gate and wrapping it with delicate fingers around Crowley’s throat.

“Anything else?”

Crowley flopped down, curling into himself with his head resting in Azirpahale’s lap.

“Just this.” Crowley said, contented.

Aziraphale chuckled as he snapped his fingers, two extra logs appeared on the fire and a blanket laid over the demon. On the table appeared an electric hotplate and kettle along with a mug of cocoa mix. Crowley nuzzled a little further into Aziraphale’s thigh.

“Mmmmh.” He sighed contently as Aziraphale began stroking along the red locks of hair. The angel flattened his palm against the demon’s forehead. It was still a little warm, but with a little love and care, he’d make a full recovery. He tugged the blanket a bit and tucked the loose corners around Crowley’s shoulders. The angel chuckled. He looked like a crepe with strawberry jam sticking out the end.

Aziraphale leaned down and pressed a kiss to Crowley’s temple. Another contented sigh came from the demon.

“L’v you, ‘ngel.” Crowley murmured, already half asleep.

A positively delightful feeling passed through Aziraphale’s chest as he looked down at the demon, so close to nodding off.

“I love you too, my dear.”

Aziraphale looked from him to the crackling fire. So bright and calming, contrasting to the howling storm outside. He could feel the glow on his face.

As the night deepened around them, they stayed put in their little cocoon of light and warmth, cuddled close together as their chests rose and fell in rhythm with each other, and as the time slipped away, the snow still falling heavily outside, there was only one thought that passed through either of their minds.

There is nowhere else I’d rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed that story. Thank you once again to [WhiteleyFoster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteleyFoster/pseuds/WhiteleyFoster). because she is so talented and a source of inspiration to so many fic writers. I myself am a sucker for a good sickfic/confession and first kiss fic. And I figured, hey it's a holiday here in America (Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends) and I had this work finished might as well type it up and give it you guys. I hope it was as fun to read as it was to write. If you liked it kudos and comments are appreciated (and reading and answering them will give me an excuse to keep putting off my schoolwork now that I'm done with this story...I have three essays, two projects, and an exam..some of them are for the same class...help). Thank you all so much for reading and have a lovely day.


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